


Switching Things Up

by Catminty



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Multi, Partner Swapping, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-16
Updated: 2013-04-16
Packaged: 2017-12-08 16:03:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/763289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catminty/pseuds/Catminty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rewind decides to spice things up with Chromedome. He manages to convince his friend to try partner swapping with one of the other couples on the Lost Light. </p><p>Little does Chromedome know how long Cyclonus has been waiting to frag a mech and not hold back. Minis can only take so much safely, much to his disdain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Switching Things Up

**Author's Note:**

> Two stories in one orn? Whaaaat? Does headcanon once again have control over my processor? D:
> 
> If you decide to partake of this smut, please do so knowing that I do not know anything about these four characters outside of fanfiction. Any blatant disregards to the storyline are unintentional. I'm just aiming for a story plotted somewhere on the Lost Light. Please forgive this author for the inevitable, horrible mistakes!

It was out of the blue, unexpected; the request had completely blindsided him. Then again, considering how free spirited his little friend was, it wasn't too much of a shocker. "You want to frag Tailgate?" Chromedome asked, stupefied. 

Rewind nodded enthusiastically, stretched out next to his roommate on a berth. "Yeah, Domey. I mean, you know how rare my class is now. How long will it be before I find another mech that agrees?"

The orange mech hesitated. Just when he thought they were making progress towards becoming an item... "Sure, but... You want me to go with you?"

"Yes, please," Rewind said as he fingered one of Chromedome's transformation seams. "I had to sweeten the deal with Tailgate. He said he'd do it if you came along."

Visor brightening in shock and vents shuddering in surprised embarrassment, Chromedome eyed his little friend from the corner of his visor. "Why me?"

"Dunno." Rewind grinned cheekily. "He probably thinks you're hot, like me."

A silent praise was given to whoever invented facemasks. His faceplates were on fire with embarassment. Chromedome fidgeted, fighting with himself over whether he should let Rewind do what he wanted or whether he should just confess his feelings in hopes that their friendship would become something more. Sure, they were already friends with benefits, but he wanted more.

But when Chromedome looked down at that hope-filled visor, he decided to wait. "Of course. You know I'll always go with you." His spark skipped a pulse when Rewind happily crushed him in a hug.

"Yes! Now," the mini clambered off the berth and dragged his friend to the door. "We don't have much time!"

A tingling dread settled in the larger mech's tanks. "Time?"

The smaller mech pushed his companion out the door and toward the washracks. "We barely have enough time to get cleaned up! We have to be there in five breems."

"There?"

Rewind paused, planted his fists on his hips, and slowly spoke as if talking to an underclocked glitch, "The swap."

Oh.  _O_ _h._  "Right." The pair hurried along to get ready for the event. All the while, Chromedome tried to ignore the way his tank churned with uncertainty. 

~-~-~

So. There they were. Rewind and Tailgate were on the latter's berth, making out and getting more than a little randy. And oh, hey, Cyclonus was there, too. The big, purple ex-Decepticon sat on his berth reading his datapad as if there weren't two minis getting hot and heavy on the other berth. Chromedome, for his part, didn't know what to do. Both berths were occupied and none of the occupants looked ready to give him a place to sit. 

"Um, Cyclonus?" He started nervously. "My name is Chromedome. It's--" The orange mech paused, optics jerking to the joined minis as one--both?--muffled obscene curses. He looked back at the still-reading mech, taking great effort to not look back at the pair. "It's nice to finally meet you."

Cyclonus ignored him just as he ignored the other two. Wilting slightly, Chromedome looked back to the show. Should he just sit down on the floor?

"You look like an idiot standing there like that."

What? Chromedome whipped around and stared at the purple mech incredulously. Cyclonus hadn't moved from his position. Was he hearing things? A slender leg bent to make room on the berth. "Sit down already."

"T-Thank you." Chromedome sat gingerly. He flinched when Cyclones shifted, placing them shoulder-to-shoulder while they watched the show. He pulled out two cubes of highgrade from his nightstand and offered one to Chromedome. 

How did Cyclonus got those cubes and why did he decided to share? Chromedome subtly cracked open the seal on the small cube and took a whiff. It smelt good, but was it safe? He warily looked at the purple mech. The same mech that obviously caught onto his thought process and decided that the idiot he gave the cube to must be lower than a cleaning drone. Cyclonus rolled his optics, snatched the cube from his servos, and took a swig. The aerial raised an optic ridge at Chromedome and shoved the cube back in his servos.

"S-Sorry," the orange mech mumbled. He chose to ignore the muttered comment about stupid, prissy Autobots too scared to live a little. 

They sat together in companionable silence through the first round of overloads. Chromedome shifted uneasily in an attempt to put space between himself and his viewing companion. 

It was actually pretty fragging hot watching Rewind spike and get spiked by someone of his own size. They really seemed to know how to get each other off, what with the grinding and the biting. And the fisting. Now that was hot. Somehow his cube was empty. Did Cyclonus drink it all? The purple mech placed another glowing cube in his servos while downing one of his own. You know, now that he really thought about it, this ex-Con really was a nice mech. He allowed Chromedome and Rewind in his room, he gave Chromedome a place to sit and watch "the action," he gave out free highgrade, and he had the most piercing gaze that stared straight into a mech's spark...

Snapping electricity leapt across Chromedome's plating as his charge increased. A few bolts arced to the neighboring frame and danced across its surface. A clawed servo planted firmly on Chromedome's upper leg and Cyclonus leaned in, whispering huskily, "Take off."

Chromedome tried to not be affected, but his vocalizer was laced with static. "I-It?" Two digits firmly tapped on his mask. "Oh." Chromedome hesitated. "I don't think..." Frag but that mech could glare. He retracted his mask obediently, optics unfocused yet directed at the other berth. 

Suddenly the ship shifted and everything was at an angle. Wait, ships don't ship...shift in space, do they? A hot, heavy presence smothered his frame and rough nips traveled up his neck cables. Chromedome shivered when a servo took hold of his helm and forced it so far backwards that his neck arched. He panted. His servos--uncoordinated in a way that he belatedly realized was due to the highgrade--managed to find a handle below his optic range. 

Someone growled. Chromedome struggled to turn his helm, but once he succeeded he saw that Rewind and Tailgate had stopped. What a shame. They were so appealing at that angle. 

They seemed to be staring at him. At... Chromedome moaned lowly as a hot, thick presence entered him without pretense. His helm was pulled back further and an aggressive growl vibrated in the crook of his neck. "Oh, _R_ _ewind_ ," Chromedome moaned incoherently. 

Claws dug into his helm and hip, and an agitated field smothered his own. "Either say my designation or say nothing at all," the voice in his shoulder growled darkly. 

What was his designation? Chromedome tried to catch the correct thread in his processor until the mech shifted, pulling out and thrusting back in at a slow pace. His sensors lit up in a burst of fireworks behind his offlined optics. The spike dragged out of his clenching valve slowly, then shifted to push in at a different angle. Chromedome's servos squeezed sporadically on the broad purple shoulders that pushed him down onto the berth. 

They shifted. This time the orange mech felt his legs bend up to grant the other mech more access. And his spike. Primus, the mech's spike pushed in and out and in and ground down deep in his valve. His optics shot open. "That feels so--"

"Ngh, good," the other mech finished for him. "Finally can fragging go all the way." 

A purple horn entered his vision. Oh yeah, that's who that was. "Cy-Cyclonus!" Chromedome gasped as the hot spike thrusting in and out of his valve made brief contact with an electrifying cluster of sensors. 

"Again," Cyclonus whispered darkly. Chromedome whimpered, turning his helm to the side. The cloud of overcharge still clung heavily to his processor, but a brief moment of clarity just made everything seem so wrong. He shot a worried look at Rewind. Terrified, Chromedome expected to see betrayal or disgust. While he did have Rewind's undivided attention, there weren't negative emotions anywhere around his little friend. The smaller mech's visor was locked on the larger mechs' interactions as he ground down deeper into Tailgate. Rewind licked his derma hungrily, murmuring, "Frag yes. Frag him, Cyclonus."

Liquid heat raced down Chromedome's backstruts to pool in his already overheated interface array. 

"Optics on me!" Cyclonus snarled, whipping Chromedome's attention back to the mech still buried in him. The purple mech grabbed ahold of the orange ankles dangling in the air and pushed them down until they pressed against Chromedome's shoulders. That angled his aft up, lifting it into the air to give just the right angle to--

A startled shout morphed to a moan of ecstasy as Cyclonus mounted the doubled-over frame and fragged him hard into the berth. Chromedome threw his head back and wailed as his sweet spot was pounded over and over until his processor span. The raging thrusts grew erratic until once, twice, three times the spike pushed in deep enough to hurt in a sinisterly delicious way. Electricity sparked and crackled across Cyclonus' frame, coiling its way down to their joined array. When it reached their lubricant-soaked connection, Chromedome screamed louder than ever before. Every piston in his frame fired and every joint spasmed uncontrollably. Cyclonus was barely any better off. He convulsed so hard that his spike popped out mid-overload and coated the sparking orange chestplate in thick spurts of conductive silver. As the surge of overload passed, the crackles slowly faded from their pinging, cooling frames. 

If it wasn't for the aerial's determination to lock his armstruts and keep himself from flopping down, Chromedome was sure that he would have been squished beneath Cyclonus' smoldering mass. "It--" Chromedome reset his vocalizer in an attempt to clear the static. After lowering his legs, he croaked, "It's alright. I won't break."

Those seemed to be the magic words, because Cyclonus groaned and lowered his weight down without a second thought. Chromedome huffed but surprisingly welcomed the weight. 

"That was so hot," Rewind whispered reverently from the other berth. Chromedome looked over lazily, a happy grin tugging at his derma. But his smile dropped when he noticed a telltale red light beaming from the side of his little friend's helm. Oh well, he shifted to get comfortable. Things turned out pretty well.

"...Cyclonus!" Tailgate shouted angrily from somewhere above and to the side. Wait. Why was the berth above him? "You can't just push a mech off your berth after you frag him!" Oh. Chromedome looked over blearily to see Rewind holding his sides, laughing his aft off. From above Cyclonus mumbled some choice glyphs about stupid Autobots not knowing when to leave.

Chromedome sighed contentedly. Things could have been worse. 


End file.
